Walking to our son’s wedding a week ago in Bath, in all our finery, Hub suddenly says ‘just a minute – I want to go in here’ and he disappears into a charity shop.
Wot on earth??? He emerges a few minutes later, clutching a belt.
‘I’ve lost weight since we bought this suit,’ he confides. ‘And now I need a belt to keep the trousers up … ‘
Later, at the reception, he turns the belt over and discovers that it’s mock snakeskin.
Eldest Daughter immediately claims it. ‘First of all, Dad, that is a lady’s belt (a fact which had bypassed Hub) … and second of all, it will go with my mock snakeskin shoes and bag ‘
I was really pleased with my outfit. And then disaster. The wedding shoes which I had only ever worn with bare feet, slipped up and down horribly with tights. I couldn’t walk without one of them falling off
So before the service I’m in the Abbey loos, desperately shoving loo paper down the back of my shoe.
No good. At the end of the service I hobble down the aisle clutching the bride’s father’s arm. He must have wondered what on earth was going on …
We have to walk back to the guest house after the service to get the car to take us and our relatives to the reception … this time it’s me who ducks into the Pound Shop.
In me finery, complete with fascinator, I stand in the queue with a packet of … heel grips.
Eventually I get outside where sis and bro in law are standing a good distance away all but whistling. We’re not with her
And no, the heel grips didn’t work either.
Never mind … not much walking after that – more, lots of sitting down and eating